A Thing of the Past
by snowii
Summary: Hermione and Harry get captured from Hogwarts and mysteriously she is hurtled into the past. With a million questions and apparently no answers, what will Fate decide? And what does love have to do with anything? First fanfic. warning: slow updates.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It has been like this for the whole six years of her magical schooling. Was it ever going to end? And guiltily, Hermione admitted she wasn't so sure she wanted it to end. The obvious reason was that it might end in disaster, but personally, she knew no other way of life. War had permeated through her school life and had manifested instincts in her of a fierce sense of protection of her friends and herself, studying DADA with one hundred per cent dedication. And anyone would know for Hermione to do that is a lot. This night, the end was coming.

Hermione hurried down the moving staircases, ignoring the millions of frantic portraits hanging on the walls. _Find Harry! Find Harry!_ Pounded like a heartbeat in her head. This was it. All the preparation and training and now was the deciding draw. Rushing down the last flight of stairs and down the stable staircase, she almost collided into the closed doors of the Great Hall. Bending over and placing her hands on her knees, she stopped for a brief moment, catching her breath. Her hand reached forward to push open the great, heavy doors, but before she had applied any force, they opened on their own accord. Hermione furrowed her brow before straightening herself. The doors moved slowly, opening inwards, revealing a deserted Great Hall.

"Harry?" she called out, but the only reply was the echoing of her call. A cold, frightening air rushed up her back, making the hairs on her neck stand up. Her hand subconsciously slipped into her pocket, reaching for her wand for something like comfort and protection. She gripped it and took a tentative step forwards, her eyes darting around the familiar place filled with unfamiliar, cold silence. Taking her wand out from pocket, she pointed it defensively at nothing. With no sound of warning whatsoever Death Eaters appeared to take off disillusionment charms and surrounded her in what appeared to be hundreds. She looked like a trapped mouse amongst mountains of cats waiting viciously for the moment of ripping up its prey. _Hadn't it been all planned? What happened? Wasn't it…?_ Before she had time to finish, she was floating in the air probably from a_ levi corpus _charm after an "Expeliarmus" was shouted and her wand flew out of her hands. It all took just seconds with no time space to react. _You could have defended yourself! You could have done something instead of just stand there!_ Hermione scolded herself, but it was no use. She could not distract the spell caster as she could not spot him and her limbs were beginning to feel heavy and tired. She was positive it was a spell. As she slowly succumbed to a peaceful, dreaming state, she rolled her head to look sideways, discovering an unconscious Harry floating beside her.

* * *

A/N: just a quick fix up.. still not as good as it could be because I wrote this prologue two years ago, but later chapters get better. Enjoy.


	2. The Beginning of the End

**The Beginning of the End**

Hermione opened her heavy eyelids as quickly as she could feel her limp limbs. Every bone and every muscle ached as she tried to fetch the memory from deep within her complex mind of what had occurred. She lay, as though been literally thrown into the room that was unable to be described for it was in an almost hypnotising darkness.

The memories that finally started to return didn't help at all in relieving her confusion. She searched for her wand, but as suspected, it was taken. She surprised herself though, because in fact, she was not at all afraid. But still, why was she there? And more importantly, where was 'there'? Why did she ache? What happened during her unconscious moments? Hermione brought an arm up closer to her eyes to examine it after attempting and failing to sit up properly. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the impossible darkness, she made out faint – well at least to her eyes – lines on her usually flawless skin. She leaned back against what probably was a wall in order to lift her other arm and touch the lines with the hand she was half holding herself up with.

"Ouch!" she winced as her fingers made contact with the line on her skin. She felt liquid and of course they were cuts. But how did she get them? A _sectumsempra_ spell? But that could have killed her, and yet there were so many of those scars. She couldn't imagine Death Eaters to use muggle forms of torture and weapons. Was she even hurt by the Death Eaters? Did they throw her here? Why didn't they kill her? Why did they do it when she was unconscious or was it just because they obliviated her memory? But then she should have a blank in the midst of everything. Maybe they used her unconsciousness before and after it to hide it?

Her confusion was interrupted by a ray of eye-piercing light that streamed through some doorway – at least she supposed it was a doorway – as two silhouetted figures emerged. Instinctively, Hermione backed away into the solidness – something that made her feel a little better, strangely.

"The Dark Lord would like to see you before he finishes you. Both." A mysterious dark man informed, emphasising the word 'both'. It was only then Hermione realised it wasn't only her who had been captured, but Harry too. Hermione didn't move. Finish her? How? Why? Shouldn't Voldemort have done that long ago?

"Get a move on!" The other figure bellowed, making Hermione jump. Feeling a hand firmly grip her sore arm, she tried to suppress a wince but again failed. The small sound of sharply breathed in air was responded with a dark, triumphant laugh. At that, Hermione gathered herself together and tried to pull herself away, ignoring the pain travelling through her petite body at the contact.

"I can walk myself." She managed to force out in a fierce manner, though she dearly hoped it was as fierce as she meant it to be. The grip loosened enough for her to free her arm from it. She had no intention of going with them and with a quick backwards step deliberately fell onto the cold, hard floor, attempting to imitate a faint. It hurt, but there was no time to wince or regret her actions as muttering from the two men grew softer, Hermione found herself drifting away. It was then she realised she was touching something. The hand against the wall was connected to something of a portal, and as she groped at it silently in the darkness, blinding light erupted from the unknown source, pulling her into it. As the light reduced, she found herself in McGonagall's office, watching herself receiving the time turner in third year.

This had to be the most confusing day in her entire life. First, somehow she and Harry had been captured by Voldemort, then she found herself within a magically dark room, and just when she was about to leave, she was somehow pulled into some magical portal and now she was watching the past as though in a penseive. Somehow she was brought to another time and place she didn't recognise as the picture of her in McGonagall's office slowly vanished and another materialized. It appeared to be some kind of forest, perhaps it could be the Forbidden Forest? But she didn't need to contemplate anything, as she scanned the lushness, found something gold and shining amidst the green next to her wand. Her wand! She snatched it up and relished the familiar feeling of carved wood on skin. The spark of magical connection. She then proceeded to pick up the shining object by its gold chain and lifted the pendant to eye-level. It was the same time-turner she had in third year. Without warning, the hourglass pendant began turning, spinning faster and faster so that it was impossible for Hermione to count the times it spun.

Sometime later, as Hermione got sick of watching the spinning which made her slightly dizzy, she noticed her surroundings. The plants withered, bloomed, sprouted, then withered again. Everything went backwards as though in one of those muggle films, where you pressed the rewind button continuously. It all looked like a watery mess of mostly green and brown and blue and green above. Just as Hermione couldn't stand the dizzying whirling, it came to a sudden halt. After she closed her eyes for a while, trying to shake out the nauseous feeling, she surveyed her surroundings once again, and for once, it wasn't moving.

All the plants were fruiting, and some were beginning to shed their leaves. Hermione guessed it was probably around September, just when the new schooling year at Hogwarts began. Now that she had a rough guess at what time of the year it was, she wondered exactly _**what **_year it was and because that was impossible to work out from looking at trees, Hermione decided to try and manoeuvre out of the forest.


	3. Jet Black and Stormy Sapphire

**Jet Black and Stormy Sapphire**

Sitting in headmaster Dippet's office felt incredibly strange to Hermione. The neatly arranged scrolls, worn, leather-bound books, quills, ink and portraits were all lined so neatly across different surfaces that it was almost military. It felt like a cruel joke someone was playing on her as images of the intriguing gadgets and gizmos that overflowed in Dumbledore's version of the room flooded her. It now felt so empty, as though the wise old man who held the light to their paths had had his fire snuffed out.

Hermione shook her head internally. No. She was here for a reason, there had to be a reason and she wasn't about to let any moment of weakness live until she found out what it was she was here for. (And just out of curiosity, how).

"Sorry, I don't quite recall your name?" The headmaster looked up after replacing the letter Hermione had fabricated to support her backstory with a blank piece of parchment.

"Hermione Velius." The headmaster paused for a long second, squinting at her up and down before nodding his head and writing it down.

"How very intriguing Miss Velius that you should have come from such a family." Dippet smiled thoughtfully, "So the story, is it true?"

"Barely." Hermione borrowed her real grief of losing her parents in the future as a disguise for Hermione Velius' loss of her father.

While she had walked towards the castle, she had decided that the best way to keep most of history intact was to come from a family that no one knew about. The last thing she wanted to do was to mess up anyone's family line. She had often read about the Velius family in her collection of books on magical myths. They were an extremely old pure-blood family abundantly gifted with magical skill. They allegedly kept to themselves, were home-schooled and lived away from other people, magical and muggle alike. Hermione often let her imagination run wild while pondering how they might have lived, being sheltered from the grey world. Were they innocent, naïve and perhaps shy? Or did they know about the world and merely refused to acknowledge it?

"Year of birth?" Dippet continued.

"I don't know sir," Hermione tried not to become nervous as she hadn't found out what year it was yet, "But I am seventeen years old".

"1927." Dippet muttered to himself. Hermione tried not to gasp and her brain worked quickly to find the year – 1944.

"You will be put in seventh year Ms Velius and – " Before the Headmaster finished his sentence, there was a soft yet definite knock on the door. "Excuse me." Dippet smiled politely and asked for the initiator of the knock to enter. Hermione's eyes were met with jet black hair that swept neatly above stormy, sapphire eyes. His pale skin stood out strikingly against the black robes and the silver and green threads that shone among the folds.

"Ms. Velius, this is our Head Boy, Tom Riddle."

.::.

Tom Riddle's mind was plagued by the night before. Waking up as the sun entered through the slits of his velvet green curtains, he made his way slowly towards the mirror. There's was nothing out of the ordinary, save the disorderly mop of bed hair he so absolutely despised. His memories must have been playing tricks on him and he hated how his mind had failed him, again. The surge of anger that rose incredibly calmly brought out a clear flash of ruby light from his dangerously beautiful eyes. No, his memory didn't fail him this time. It was true. But this didn't give him any more comfort than his first assumption, for now he was determined to find out why.

Retrieving his wand from under his pillow, he tapped it twice on his left arm. _6:45am_, it read. Being Head Boy, headmaster Dippet had asked him to arrive a day earlier than the other students to help him proof-read his welcoming speech. Riddle couldn't care less about the Headmaster, but spending one single hour away from that damned orphanage was worth anything in Hogwarts. He was scheduled to a meeting with the Headmaster in fifteen minutes and so flicked his wand around with several non-verbal spells to fix his unruly hair, bed and the curtains until everything was in a state of perfect order. He was in control.

He made his way expertly around the empty castle and up the long flight of stairs in the Headmaster's tower and gave the password – "Dippet" – to the gargoyle, and knocked. As he entered, he raised a brow to an unexpected, bushy-haired girl who had taken his seat.

"And Mr Riddle, this is Ms Hermione Velius." The headmaster smiled happily as though some delightful ghost had just entered his shell. At the first mention of his name, the girl's expression had changed from surprise and liking to a cold tranquillity which failed miserably at the attempt to hide a deep, controlled hatred. Riddle mentally listed another item on his virtual notepad of things he needed to figure out:

_Hermione Velius_

.::.

_Tom Riddle… Tom Riddle_… the Headmaster's voice rang in Hermione's head, bashing against all the inside walls of her skull and reverberated ten times louder. Each time was accompanied by an image of a falling figure, of Ron, of Lupin, of Sirius, of Dumbledore and hell… of her parents! She could barely contain the rage that was bubbling in her and placed, instead, a soft, emotionless smile on her lips. Just the pretences of formalitites.

"Here you are Mr Riddle, and thank you again for being so selfless." The headmaster handed him the short piece of parchment.

"My pleasure sir." His words were almost dripping with poisoned treacle Hermione almost snorted. She resorted to coughing violently to cover it up.

"Are you alright Miss Velius?" Dippet asked. Hermione nodded but all she could see for a brief moment was Tom Riddle's suspicious stare.

"Alright then. Tomorrow you will be sorted into a house after the first years but for tonight, you may rest in the head girls' dormitories." Dippet rolled up the piece of parchment in his hands and placed it neatly on a stacked pile. "If you will, Mr Riddle, please show our new student the way?" The future dark lord smiled sweetly and indicated for Hermione to follow. _Head girl's dorms? Really? Her first day some fifty years in the past and she's a wall away from the future Dark Lord. Some way to settle her stomach. Just the perfect situation to be in, right?._ Hermione grimaced as she followed quietly behind him, trying not to just kill him right there. Not before she figures out how to get back afterwards.


	4. Sorting Mysteries

**Sorting Mysteries**

After a night of restless sleep, Hermione couldn't decide whether it was the pending curious eyes of the whole school on her during sorting or the suspicious eyes of Tom Riddle next door that made her more nervous. Turning around under the plain grey covers for the last time, she sat up with a frustrated groan and inspected her dishevelled appearance in the mirror.

"Great." She fetched her wand from under her pillow and waved it lazily around to fix her hair and cover up the dark circles under her eyes. Dippet had given her a uniform and as she changed, she gingerly traced the scars on her arms and legs, covering each up with a spell. She couldn't afford questions.

As she walked down the stairs to the Heads' common room, she was greeted with a perfectly presentable Tom Riddle who studied her for a moment before smiling politely.

"Good morning." He greeted. Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"Good morning to you too." She tried to calm her tone, but the seething spilled over the barriers and turned out somewhat comical. Riddle raised a brow.

"Well, let's get some breakfast then. The students come in the evening. Until then, you may, explore, I suppose." Riddle's voice held an unnatural charm, like a sinister hypnotist. Hermione nodded and gave an internal shudder.

The great hall was just as it had been – or will be – in Hermione's time frame, the four long tables sat neatly across the huge space and the house points hourglasses stood lifeless in anticipation for the beginning of the year. Hermione ate her pumpkin soup with bread quietly. At least there was something warm and familiar inside her for the moment she could relish. If she ignored Tom Riddle's intense gaze, that is.

.::.

Tom Riddle sipped his soup quietly as he studied the strange girl before him. His calm features suppressed his frustration of how she seemed to see through every single façade. She wasn't using Legilimency because he would feel it (and he doubted such a girl would be able to) so he had absolutely zilch idea and he hated it. He always knew everything. He knew the way one flicker of a smile sent shivers down any female's spine and one "sorry" brought forgiveness from any professor – with the exclusion of Dumbledore of course. He was always in control, always charming and _always_ knew everything. The syllables of _Hermione Velius_ were beginning to tingle beneath his skin with curiosity and loathing. How dare she mess up his world!

He watched her as she left after finishing her meal and followed her discreetly. Yet she seemed intent on walking in circles as though she knew. After a while, she made her way straight to the library and he laughed quietly to himself. She completely failed at making the impression of being lost, yet behind that laugh, Riddle couldn't suppress the obvious question: _How did she know the castle so well?_

.::.

Hermione closed her book with a sigh and reluctantly left the library. Making her way to the tall, heavy doors of the great hall, she lined up, as instructed, behind the first years and waited in line to enter. Before her name was called, Headmaster Dippet briefly explained her presence. Walking slowly up to the stool, she scanned the hall for any familiar faces. There was a Malfoy with the trademark blonde hair, probably a few Blacks by their looks no one else she seemed to recognise.

"Hello there. Nice to see you again." The voice of the sorting hat almost made Hermione jump.

"A – again? But that's in the future." Hermione countered in her head.

"Yes, well, time doesn't really affect me you see, because I'm not really alive. Let's see, what house shall we put you in? Pretending to be a full-blood hmm?"

"How do you know that?"

"I know everything deary. Slytherin? All the better to fulfil your purposes?"

"What purposes?" Hermione was getting more and more agitated.

"Or you prefer Gryffindor? You've already been there, why not try something else?"

"I –"

"Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff surely can't stand a spirit like you."

"What do you mean?" Hermione didn't know if she should be angry.

"I'd say Ravenclaw. You'd get some friends that way. Probably need them. If I count to three and you don't say anything, then that's it."

"Okay." Hermione was too distracted by the hat's earlier words. _Fulfil your purposes… _

"One… two… oh and by the way, he's not the Dark Lord yet." The sorting hat gave a low, hearty chuckle and bellowed out loud, "RAVENCLAW!"

It had been the longest sorting in perhaps the history of Hogwarts. Hermione made her way to a cheering table and sat tentatively beside a skinny, cheerful, black-haired girl and opposite a boy with dark auburn hair, neatly ruffled and began eating.

"Hi Hermione, I'm Lucretia, Lucretia Black but everyone calls me Lucy." Hermione stopped chewing, trying to figure out what relation she was to Sirius.

"Um… Is there something wrong?" Lucy asked.

"No, no. You just… um… reminded me of someone I knew… well, heard of." Hermione corrected when she remembered she wasn't supposed to know anyone except her own family. She internally berated herself for that minor slip because Hermione didn't do slips.

"Oh really! That's so cool. This is Ignatius, he's a Prewett. Don't be scared of him. He might look tough and mean and keeping his cool right now, but really," Lucy cupped her hand to Hermione's ear and whispered, "He's just a shy little boy." Hermione shared a laugh with Lucy.

"And me, pretty lady, my name is Dante Camien," A brown-haired boy came from the Gryffindor table and made a place for himself next to her. "and welcome to Hogwarts."

"Go away Dante," Lucy waved him off, "just ignore him. He's the biggest flirt the world has ever seen." Hermione couldn't help but smile. Maybe this wasn't going to be completely bad after all.


	5. Potion of Erised

**Potions of Erised**

Hermione looked down at her timetable. Double potions on Mondays. Hermione gave a huff and blew at a stray strand of hair. First thing of the week is her worst subject down in her least favourite classroom. _Come on Hermione, stop being so negative!_ She scolded herself. But the feeling was settling in and she didn't know why. She felt like such an irritating whiner and Hermione is not one of _those_ girls. Waving her wand carelessly around in the bathroom of the Ravenclaw dorms, she fixed her hair into a bun neatly.

"Wow, how do you do that so quickly?" Lucy looked stunned. Hermione shrugged.

"I guess I just… don't usually have a lot of time on my hands." Hermione's thought trail wiggled back to the future when presentation meant zilch if it didn't save your life in those weeks, days, hours on the brink of war.

"Can you teach me?" Lucy pleaded, "And I'll show you how to style it better." And she said it, she let lose a few wavy, golden brown strands from Hermione's bun.

"There that looks much better." Lucy seemed mighty pleased with herself. Hermione smiled, turning her head from side to side in the mirror.

"Fine, I'll show you next time."

After getting ready, they made their way down to breakfast. Hermione almost walked towards the Gryffindor table out of habit and quickly corrected herself, looking up at the Slytherin table to make sure those pair of stormy sapphire eyes didn't see. But the Head Boy was absent.

"Silver and blue suits you beautifully, but perhaps some red and yellow might add some fire." Dante winked at her as he walked past. Hermione smirked. _Oh wouldn't you know about that._

"What do you have first?" Hermione asked Lucy as they sat down and eagerly grabbed a share of their food.

"Potions. Double." Lucy's face contorted into a disgusted look. Hermione felt a tingle of relief.

"Me too."

"Oh well then, be prepared. The dungeons are horrible and the professor…" She pauses, leans into Hermione and whispers, "I bet he's a little bit weird in the head. Probably drank something when he was young that he made wrong." Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Professor Slughorn isn't the most comprehendible, nor likeable person that's for sure.

"Which house are we sharing with?"

"And that's the worst part of all," Lucy said after another munch. "The Slytherins. Always has been, looks to me always will be."

"Why?" Hermione took her first bite tentatively.

"Because," Lucy paused while she managed to eat like a ravenous tiger yet still remain feminine, "Potions is the Slytherin's best class and Ravenclaws are the most intelligent people, so they only want to compete with the best." Hermione nodded and gave an internal shudder as she felt eyes boring into her back and ate her toast absent-mindedly.

.::.

Tom Riddle watched as everyone filed into the classroom, keeping an eye on Hermione Velius. Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together when the class sat down and smiled broadly. Tom Riddle huffed in contempt of the silly man as he was washed over with happiness at his favourite, most brilliant class.

"Now today, we're going to make a new potion to start off the New Year. It's not too complicated, not for you bunch I'm sure. It's called Potion of Erised. It's supposed to show each of you what you want, and perhaps it'll help you see what you can do to achieve it this year." Slughorn was almost bubbling. Tom laughed to himself at the helpless man. He did not know at all the full strength and ability of this potion.

"Now, instead of working with the person next to you, I have randomly picked names from the sorting hat and placed them together. I will read out your partners." The whole class groaned.

"Brown with Malfoy. Prewett with Prince. Tinteth with Goyle. Gremilin with Crabbe. Black with Lestrange…" Lucy bit her lip at glanced at her partner. Riddle laughed to himself and Lestrange smirked darkly. That silly girl's going to have some fun. The list continued on for a while and Riddle kept up his charming façade of interest.

"…and Velius with Riddle." He tried not to cough. He watched her as her eyes opened three times its size and her jaw tightened. An ominous smile spread across his lips which screamed 'temptation' as he came up with a nice little plan. Oh wasn't it sweet just like the taste of the potion. Well, his recipe for the potion.

.::.

Hermione took a deep breath. _He's not the Dark Lord yet. _She repeated the Sorting Hat's words, swallowing her hatred. _Don't hate like this. Otherwise, there's going to be no difference between him and you except two people trying to seek revenge. You on him, and him on the world. Hate's not going to get you anywhere._ Hermione reasoned, but it had no physical effect on the irrepressible fire. Slowly the flames conjured up an image as the word 'Erised' tickled her memory. It sounded so familiar... wasn't it… a mirror! Yes it was the mirror Harry had told her about, that revealed what a person's deepest desires were. Now she remembered. She remembered the night she snuck into Harry's dorm and took his invisibility cloak just the day before the end of the school year…

_The eleven year-old Hermione silenced her footsteps as she snuck into the restricted section of the library. She had read about it a hundred times in _Hogwarts: A History_ and curiosity took over. She ran an invisible, lighted wand tip across the many thick spines looking for that word that plagued her dreams. _Erised… Erised…

"_Huh!" she whispered in delight as she came upon the book. Her childish excitement making her tremble. Who knew breaking rules could be so thrilling? She opened the book, sitting down underneath the cloak. There were two sections, one about spells and the other, potions. She flipped to the potions section because Dumbledore already knew how to use them on the mirror, she wanted to know something no one else knew. Under the bluish hue of her wand, she read:_

…Potion of Erised was originally invented to reveal a person's deepest desires, ones the person may or may not realise, to either a designated other or oneself. After 200 years of its first invention, a lesser version was made to simply reveal a person's wants and needs which proved useful, less evasive and dangerous…

_Hermione skimmed through the intro, her big, honey-brown eyes growing wide as she came upon the brewing instructions. Reaching for scrap pieces of parchment in her left skirt pocket, she copied both sets and after hearing footsteps down in the next isle, she quickly replaced the book and ran for her life._

Hermione tried not to laugh as she pictured her bushy hair flying everywhere in her escape. The first time she broke the rules.

"Velius. Please be a bit more co-operative." Hermione was jolted back to the present with Riddle, low, controlled voice. Hermione swallowed the sudden surge of hate and smiled.

"Sorry." She bowed her head slightly, not meeting his piercing gaze in case she lost it right there. _I can't believe you just apologised to the person who is going to kill everyone and everything you know! _Hermione took a deep breath. _Shut up. _She felt like she might be going crazy, fighting with herself.

Eyeing the instructions, she realised it was the 'lesser version' but Riddle had brought back the their bench all the ingredients for the original brewing instructions. They had very similar instructions and only a person who knew would pick out the differences. Hermione could see Riddle eyeing her suspiciously as she frowned at the ingredients.

"Is there a problem Velius?" Riddle smiled politely. It made her sick.

"No." She smiled back. "None at all." _Whatever you're planning Riddle… _She couldn't hold back the smirk growing on her lips. Just what she needed, and this time, she wasn't being sarcastic. The suspicion never leaving his eyes, he began prepping the first ingredient.

"I'll read you the instructions and you can follow them." Riddle suggested politely, though there was a tone of finality in it. _Oh no, Riddle, not a chance._

"Maybe we should share the roles. We'll both learn better that way." Hermione was beginning to enjoy challenging his authority and ignoring the side of her that was warning her she was messing with the future Lord Voldemort. He raised his eyebrows and his sapphire orbs darkened. Hermione pretend she didn't see and ignored the hairs standing on her neck and the chill shivering down her spine. She was going to find out how to bring down the future Dark Lord. With this very potion.


	6. Plans, Duels and Sprouting Seeds

**Plans, Duels and Sprouting Seeds**

As the class was dismissed, Hermione and Riddle's potion was still simmering, bubbling in veiled anticipation. Slughorn made his way leisurely to his two students after he asked them to stay behind.

"Ms Velius, Mr Riddle, what do we have here?" He peered into the clear, lightly purple-tinged liquid simmering away and frowned slightly. He eyed the two expressionless faces of his students and a smile grew slowly across his face.

"Well, Ms Velius, I saw you taking quite an interest in today's work and it seemed to have turned out quite pleasingly. Would you like to join Mr Riddle and me in my highly regarded Slug Club?" Hermione's breath caught in her throat. _Oh, no. _She thought. _Now I'm really going to mess up history. Why didn't I think of this earlier._ How could she say no? How could she say yes? Hermione blinked a few times, drawing blank.

"Uh…" She made an involuntary noise, then quickly recovering, asked "What's that?"

"It's a meeting with all of my most talented and highly regarded students." At that moment, his face was the embodiment of pride.

"Oh, uh I don't think I'd be quite up to that standard." Hermione chewed on the words slowly while her thoughts raced to produce coherent lies. "I've only been here for two lessons. I'm not quite sure– "

"Oh but you'll make new friends then! Don't worry, I can see your obvious talent!" Slughorn cut in.

"Uh, I'll think about it." Hermione tried to smile her most charming smile. After all, isn't this how Riddle handled him? Oh no, did she just imitate the tactics of the mini-Voldemort? Hermione shivered as she left the classroom under the watchful eye of the very cause of the action.

History of Magic was mercifully Slytherin-free, especially Riddle-free, which allowed Hermione's mind to wander, simmering up her little plan. How was she going to get Riddle to drink the potion? She'd have to gain his trust. She winced a little at that thought. Gain his trust, make him drink the potion, see what he desires, lure him in then get rid of him. Sounded like a good, simple plan. What could go wrong? Hermione bit her lip in thought and sighed. How is she supposed to stop Voldemort from existing all on her own? And anyway, she had an inkling what that potion would reveal. She'd have to have a plan B, or some sort of self-protective measure. After all, this was war, just not the conventional kind…

Class was dismissed again and Hermione paused for a moment in shock. Had she, Hermione Granger, just spent one whole lesson without paying one minute of attention? Geez, what does time travel do to a witch. Hermione involuntarily smiled to herself.

Making her way through the corridors and spiralling staircases, she reached the DADA classroom. Her eyes were drawn like a magnet to those stormy sapphires of Riddle's as soon as she stepped through the door. _Oh God, why so soon? The plan hasn't even hatched. I'm not sure the eggs are even laid yet!_ Hermione grimaced inwardly. She managed a fleeting smile.

"Hey Hermione!" Lucy waved her over, to her great relief. "How was your last class? Are you finding everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's really amazing here. The castle is… beautiful, a bit frightening sometimes." Hermione tried to draw upon her childhood memories of the way she first felt when she saw the castle.

"Yeah I know. But I don't like this class, see I'm more of a brains person. I fight with words and strategic spells and things like that. This class is so… physically demanding." Lucy pouted. "Plus, Professor Merrythought is all old now, she's too tired to teach much. Just makes us duel safely and read learn spells." Hermione nodded slowly. Well, that suited her just fine.

Everyone stood around the classroom, but the anticipation was absent. Everyone seemed just as unenthusiastic as the professor.

"Well, hello everyone. We will be having a duel today. 10 house points to each winner in all the separate duels and 50 to the final winner." Professor Merrythought's tired but cheerful voice announced.

"Oh, and remember the new spell on page 384? Anyone know what it does?" The class was quiet. Riddle couldn't be more nonchalant when Professor Merrythought pointed in his direction.

"It's an old spell that causes temporary memory loss in the target." Riddle mumbled while tracing the patterns on his wand. _So he wasn't just evil, he was also an arrogant bastard. _Hermione thought.

Ignoring him, Hermione fingered the wand in her robes. She hasn't done this in a while and a childish excitement began to blossom. Professor Merrythought randomly picked out partners and one by one, each duelled the other. The spells were conventional, not very creative, Hermione noted. However the level of skills were quite remarkable.

"Velius and Malfoy." Hermione choked on her breath and coughed. Ferret's play time. The young grandfather Malfoy walked past her and winked slyly.

"What's wrong Velius, are you afraid?" Hell she was. Hermione returned his gesture with a sweet smile that sickened her to her stomach. She was going to have some good fun.

She stood across from Malfoy and they bowed slowly. Knowing Malfoys to be deceitful and untrustworthy, Hermione kept her eyes on him at all times. As she predicted, he sent a body-binding curse just a millisecond before they were supposed to start. Expecting it, she had been muttering _Protegro_ to herself continuously, forming a protective bubble. She tried not to be distracted as the memory of her practicing holding this spell while performing other spells in her dorms before meeting Harry washed over her. She decided to remain defensive for now. She stood motionless, staring into those smirking light-blue eyes as he fired hex after hex, all deflected without a wave of her wand. Making sure the shielding spell was so familiarly repeated in her mind it was like her heartbeat, she finally smiled, unsettling the confused Malfoy for a moment. Then she flicked her wand with an innocent smile and sent an exploding brick wall his way. He quickly broke it into a million pieces but was too surprised to send the debris flying back to her. Seizing the opportunity, she turned them into little yellow birds and made them fly around his head in a cartoon-like manner. The class laughed. She bit her lip in a childish way to emphasise her innocence as Malfoy's smirk turned into a deadly glare. He sent a strong curse her way that Hermione was sure was on the borderline to dark magic. Her eyes flashed in warning as the instincts for war instilled in her. _It's on Ferret, _she glared as the curse split her protective bubble and sent a sharp pain through her chest, knocking her back a few steps. In a controlled rage, she sent the birds darting towards Malfoy's dumb blonde head before she sent a fireball his way, turning into a wall of fire to surround him.

"Aguamenti." He hissed but the fire only grew stronger. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see professor Merrythought about to protest but Malfoy waved his wand extensively until dark vines spread around the fire and smothered it. Furious, he manoeuvred his wand so that the vine snaked it way, growing longer and longer until it grabbed Hermione's ankles and tugged. She fell over and in a split second impulse she muttered.

"Sectumsempra." And the vines split and began oozing an ominous, dark purply black liquid. Immediately she regretted her decision. That spell hasn't even been invented yet! To draw the attention away from the spell, she re-established her protective bubble and sent a multitude of hexes flying towards Malfoy, her wrist drawing intricate patterns in the air at speeds she never reached during practice. But endurance had always been her friend and in a great flash of colour as all the deflected spells combined, Malfoy was knocked off his feet and his black, hawthorn wand landed gently in her awaiting hand, a smirk that challenged Malfoy's spread across her strawberry red lips.

.::.

The class erupted in applause and cheers but Riddle merely raised a brow. This girl was good, he couldn't deny it. Perhaps he should make a little change to his previous plan. He could use this sort of skill and talent. Not to mention a spell he's never heard of before, and that's saying something. This Velius girl was getting more interesting by the second. But his face quickly returned to their blank veil of disinterest, yet he wondered why that dark loathing seemed to be taking a holiday. Maybe it was more intelligent to get her on his side. A flicker of a dark smile twitched at his lips. No all he had to do was find out where she came from and what she desires. Rage and humiliation flickered in the eyes of his best-trained Death Eater, Abraxas Malfoy. Oh yes, he could _definitely_ use a girl like Hermione Velius.

He watched the lose honey brown curls brush against the pale skin of her neck and her potential-filled smirk as she joined the silly Lucretia Black in the crowd. He watched the victory flutter through her, lighting up the eyes that matched her perfect hair. No, no, no. 'Use' was the functioning word here. Only 'use'. Riddle tightened his jaw and replaced the chipped bit of ice on his heart.

.::.

"That was too cool!" Lucy jumped up and down around Hermione while they walked back to their dorms after dinner. "I didn't want to make a big show of it after class but really, you've got to teach me sometime!"

"Wow, I think there's a lot on the list to teach you." Hermione smiled at her adorable new friend whose smooth black hair curled neatly around her shoulders. She never imagined a Black could be so kind.

"You can stop now, you know." Ignatius muttered, walking beside Lucy.

"But you didyou _see _her? She was amazing. Gave Malfoy a well-deserved ego check." Lucy giggled as they came up to their common room, where they were safe from being overheard.

"Yeah, I know, you've been talking about it all afternoon." Ignatius plopped down on the blue and silver armchair while the two girls sat down on the sofa.

"Whatever, you're just jealous." Lucy smiled excitedly and started chattering away. She was such a happy little bird, Hermione thought. She eyed Ignatius looking at her, his forest green eyes darting away as soon as she turned her head.


	7. Cold Wars

**Cold Wars**

Tom Riddle sat in his chair, appearing idle but his thoughts were travelling along nice and smoothly, knotting themselves together into intricate little plans. Some workable for now, some ambitions for the future. He twirled his wand around between his fingers, watching its shadow like a crystal ball.

"My Lord." Abraxas whispered uncertainly. Riddle's eyes rose slowly and his brows inched a little higher.

"What should we do about Velius?" Riddle could see right through the pathetic blonde. His anger and impatience was etched on his face. Riddle sighed to himself. He had failed in creating a perfect Death Eater yet again. Malfoy was more than adept in performing complex spells and dark magic but his self-control was more pathetic than a muggle. Abraxas looked confused, mistaking Riddle's sigh for hesitation.

"Abraxas." Riddle's face was completely void of emotion. One day he himself will be void of emotions too, those weak, useless things.

"Ye-yes, my lord?" Abraxas' eyes sparked with cautious excitement.

"What do you want to do?" Riddle was genuinely curious, but he doubted the man standing before him would come up with anything creative.

"Break her." Abraxas hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"Because?"

"She bruised my ego. I'll pay her back tenfold. Physically, emotionally and reputational-wise." Abraxas stopped in his tracks, his vehement words packed with venom. But his eyes searched for approval in those of Tom Riddle. Riddle raised his brows once more, catching the twirling wand tight in his skilled fingers. He had a use for Velius and a broken toy was useless.

"Abraxas." He stretched each syllable out. Abraxas held his breath in fear.

"My Lord?"

"You can play, but you can't break."

"But why?" Abraxas' impatience stole his manners and he almost yelled. A casual flick of the wand and he was on the floor writhing, his shattering screams silence to the corridor beyond the empty potions classroom. Riddle sighed once again and lifted the spell unwillingly, watching Abraxas choke and cough.

"Go, go away Abraxas, I have things to do." The blonde nodded and scuttled out of the classroom. Abraxas reasoned that Riddle's command was vague enough, if he couldn't make it public, at least he could hurt her. She would never tell and Riddle would never know because he couldn't live with this rock in his chest. She was going to pay for making him look bad.

Riddle shook his head as he listened to the boy's thoughts. After all his training, he still didn't know what was good for him. Riddle considered his punishment light enough considering Abraxas had stormed into his private time and had questioned his motives. The latter offence was serious because he had sole custody of those powers. Removing the blonde rat from his mind, he stood and turned back to his lightly simmering potion. The sweet vapours were beginning to smell like light lavender and the colour was coming along nicely. Now all he had to do was convince her to drink the potion. A last resort would be to force it down and then _obliviate_ her memory, but her intelligence would probably lead her on a search for what had been removed and he didn't need more trouble. Patience is a virtue.

.::.

Hermione bathed comfortingly in the chill of the disillusionment charm as she passed a furious Malfoy.

"Velius. You're going to pay." He muttered under his breath continuously. Hermione was far from afraid, she just didn't need the trouble. She hurried down the steps towards the dungeons, practicing her protective charm until it was second-nature. Reaching her potions classroom, she inched the door open quietly and slipped in, shedding her charm. She regretted it the minute she saw Riddle's ghost of a smirk.

The two stared at each other as the purple tinged-liquid sat in the copper cauldron between them. Finally finding some words, Hermione opened her mouth slowly.

"I see you're a very diligent student, partner."

"Could say the same for yourself." Riddle countered. Both stood stock still, just staring. Both comprehended the sarcasm left out of their words and their eyes locked like the golden threads of an Unbreakable Vow.

Hermione didn't know how her expression should be. She was supposed to gain his trust, somehow. And that surely didn't involve the hatred that bubbled in her at the sight of him. _He isn't the Dark Lord yet. He isn't the Dark Lord yet._ But looking at his blank expression, she couldn't believe the voice in her head. _Well, not completely, not yet. _

"Meet Malfoy on the way down?" Riddle finally relaxed his stance and leaned back against a desk.

"How did you know?" Hermione's voice wavered in intent. She hadn't been prepared for this encounter and she tried hard not to give in to her spite. She knew Riddle was trying to read her, but she pushed his demanding _legilimen_ fingers out of her mind with much difficulty. Her _occlumency_ skills weren't exactly up to scratch but for his feeble attempt it was quite enough. She realised she needed to practice more than just a constant _protego_.

Riddle shrugged.

"You were disillusioned and he appeared quite agitated." Riddle almost looked concerned. Hermione bit her lip to stop from laughing. He thought his charm would work on her? _Arrogant Bastard._ Hermione smiled coldly and lowered her eyes to the simmering weapon. Looks like she's going to have to fight for it. What did he want to do with it anyway? Blackmail her into joining him? No, whatever it was going to be, she was going to win this war. And there is nothing like a determined Hermione.

Or maybe there's Tom Riddle?

.::.

Tom Riddle watched the honey-coloured eyes. They filled with hatred and hesitation, two things he did not mix together. Her smiles were forced and really, she was a horrible actress. Both she and Abraxas lacked greatly in the department of deceit. He didn't expect his little show of concern to suddenly disapparate her hatred, but her reactions surprised him. Tucking his wand in his pocket, he stirred the liquid in the cauldron clockwise five times with extreme care and before he could, Velius had already lowered the temperature of the fire. He had an inkling she didn't just want this potion to get house points. She definitely needed some nurturing, but she would become his best if he could get her on his side. That was never too hard, especially if she was female. He cracked a smile.

"It's getting a little late partner," He echoed her earlier wording, "shall we go?" It was just a slight understatement considering it was about three hours passed curfew. Velius seemed to recognise the situation as well and laughed. Though it was cautious, Riddle couldn't help the few cracks that appeared across the ice jail guarding his heart. It woke a dormant memory, a memory so vague it was almost a sense, an emotion but whatever it was, it stirred in the recesses of his soul and in total disbelief, Riddle accepted denial.

The two walked slowly up the stone steps and navigated carefully through the castle. Walking her to the Ravenclaw entrance, Riddle bowed his head in his polite façade and walked towards the Heads' dorm. He kept his annoyance towards Velius steady in his mind as he produced the password and got ready for bed. She disturbed his self-control and that was capital offence, but he was willing to forgive if it meant her usefulness would supplement. But as he lay in bed, the mystery around her clouded his mind to an extent that he considered obliviating himself.

* * *

A/N: sorry guys for the late update. School's started and it's all getting very busy very quickly. I'll try my best though, because the exciting parts haven't even started yet. =)


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